


draco dormiens nunquam titillandus

by bmouse



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmouse/pseuds/bmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snuggling, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	draco dormiens nunquam titillandus

They're lying on top of a blanket in a shallow fine-gravel bed in the garden.

Technically Garak was lying there first and he still has the lion's share of it but Julian, alight and dizzy with new privileges had found him there and after circling around his curled figure several times noting, with every quality of the freshly-besotted, how the late afternoon light played over quilt and scale must have made a terrifically compromising face because when he dragged his eyes away from the endearing sight of sleepily-flexing feet Garak was trying to smother a laugh with a corner of the blanket.

"You can't stop me." Julian had warned "Especially not from down there, I'll be silly if I want to." and in return he got a languid gesture with the fingers, which could be creatively interpreted as 'by all means, proceed' and then a slow insolent stretch, as if he wasn't even there, as if it was all just between Garak and the sunbeam except for how he managed to present Julian with his throat, a flash of raised hip-ridge framing the pearly underbelly and to somehow artfully dishevel his hair a little bit further.

It was not to be borne. Julian had thrown off his light coat and in deference to ancient custom and fussy housemates hastily folded it.

"Shove over." he said, romantically. Garak naturally didn't budge an inch. 

So technically it’s more that he’s lying on top of Garak, on top of the gravel-bed, the positives of which are that after an hour of soaking in the sun a Cardassian makes for a vastly more comfortable resting surface than several thousand tiny stones. Julian does his best, he tries not to place his lethal elbows anywhere unfortunate, tries to catalog the sun on his back and the textures under his chest and cheek without veering into any unfortunate leather furniture metaphors and while precious cycles are busy with that he always has capacity to spare and those currently-unoccupied parts of his mind are free to make other observations.

For example, at certain intervals Garak’s body tightens, his fingers interlace completely over Julian's somewhat less impressive and armored back and in return he feels his palms spread, his own fingers finding purchase on the larger scales over the backs of his shoulders. The cycle goes as such: gentle, slow breaths, a subtle movement of cheek against cheek, a greedy inhale of air against the side of his neck, then one of those full-body squeezes which should really bring things to the fore - how he's folded around someone who could crush him, how easily he could close his eyes and imagine himself as prey in some well-dressed prehistoric serpent's enormous coils. Instead he keeps his eyes open, tracks the curve of his friend's ear, the sunbeams that dare to flicker for a moment in his hair before they’re lost in the soft blackness.

Garak's breath goes out in a startled happy hiss when on the next cycle Julian squeezes tightly back.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘draco dormiens nunquam titillandus’ is commonly translated as ‘never tickle a sleeping dragon’ (aka. the Hogwarts motto) but a more literal translation is apparently ‘let sleeping dragons lie’ which I really liked for the story. If you haven’t noticed yet I am unrepentantly, ragingly sick with ‘Long Pretentious Title-itus’ and rather enjoying it.


End file.
